


The Initiation

by Anonymous



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Begging, Bondage, Cock Rings, Comeplay, F/M, Gangbang, M/M, Moresomes, Multi, Orgasm Denial, oh god this is filthy I'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-09-13 17:45:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9134569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Tina is still wearing her robes, but Newt thinks that she is very likely naked underneath them, judging by the glimpses of skin he sees whenever the fabric shifts with her movements. "You're an honorary Auror now, Newt," she says, patiently as though she shouldn't need to explain this to him but is willing to humor him anyway. "All the senior Aurors talked about it and decided that the traditional initiation would be best."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt at the kinkmeme: http://fantasticbeasts-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1184.html?thread=1301664#cmt1301664

Tina asked Newt if he trusted her - he said yes, of course he said yes - and the rest is a bit of a blur. A bit of a blur that ended with Newt spread out on the table in one of the Aurors' interrogation rooms, wearing nothing but his blue coat - it, not very helpfully, has fallen open and so he is exposed to the room and whoever is watching through the one-way mirror spell.

Newt isn't entirely sure how he feels about that, but Tina asked if he trusted her, and he _does_ , but - all the same he tests the ropes binding him to the table. "Tina? What is this?"

She is still wearing her robes, but Newt thinks that she is very likely naked underneath them, judging by the glimpses of skin he sees whenever the fabric shifts with her movements. "You're an honorary Auror now, Newt," she says, patiently as though she shouldn't need to explain this to him but is willing to humor him anyway. "All the senior Aurors talked about it and decided that the traditional initiation would be best."

Newt is relatively certain that Theseus never mentioned anything like this happening when he became an Auror. Newt tests the bonds again, but finds the knots to be firm and unforgiving - the rope starts to cut into his flesh as he struggles, and he immediately stills. Tina has his wand. He supposes that he is supposed to demonstrate his abilities, fight his way out of here, show them that -

"Shhh," Tina says. She places a hand flat on his chest and then starts stroking his skin there, pushing back the edges of his coat and baring even more of his skin. Newt stays still, but his skin breaks out in gooseflesh and he can't repress a shudder. "If anything happens that you don't like, Newt, honey, you just have to say the word. Otherwise ... welcome to the department."

With that, she points her wand at him and fires off a few spells, rapidfire - the only one that Newt recognizes is a contraceptive spell, but surely....

She clambers up onto the table and straddles him, her robes brushing over his skin like a silken whisper. Tina reaches down to stroke Newt's cock, and he bites his lower lip to keep back a moan.

"Yes," she says. "You're pretty like that."

She strokes his cock, and then she shifts so that she is still straddling him, but lower - and Newt cannot help but whimper when she lowers herself onto him. He slides into her wet warmth and she reaches out to touch his bruised lower lip with a finger, rocking a little as she does. "That's it, honey."

There is just enough give in the ropes that bind Newt to the table for him to be able to rock up into her. She is warm and slick inside and her tight channel grips his cock and she makes a soft, approving noise when Newt shifts his hips.

He knows only that he would like to thrust, but the ropes are too restrictive. He lies on the hard table while Tina rides him - when he struggles to move, she pushes him flat-palmed back down, or gentles him with the sort of soft caresses that Newt himself might give to a restive frightened creature. But this is like nothing that Newt has known before, and he is not frightened exactly - Tina had asked him to trust her, and he  _does_ , but he does not know exactly what is happening or who is watching through that one-way mirror or what the end of this ritual will be.

The end, it turns out, comes far too soon, with Newt spending himself in Tina's body. She smiles, and reaches down to the place where their bodies are joined, and touches herself there until she, too, is gasping and shuddering. She holds still a minute, and then pats Newt on the collarbone and climbs down off the table. 

"Just enjoy it, Newt, honey. Don't worry about a thing - just lie here for us and enjoy it."

She pecks him on the lips - an oddly chaste kiss considering what they have just done - and leaves the room. The door swings shut behind her and Newt is left alone in the semi-darkness, where he can just crane his head to see the shimmer of the mirror spell, while he can feel the beads of sweat drying on his body and the soft echo of silence in the room. 


	2. Chapter 2

Newt doesn't know the two Aurors who walk into the room next - that is to say, he has seen them around the department several times, and they were solemn observers at the ceremony that had seen Newt's formal induction as an honorary Auror in MACUSA, but he doesn't know either of their names. He looks at one of them, or rather, looks at a point somewhere above his left shoulder. He does not know what they must think of him, spread out and naked on the table like this, bound to it and still smelling like sweat and Tina. 

One of them - the one that Newt is not-quite-looking-at - is tall and fair, and the other is tall and dark. They move as though they have been partners for a long time, circling the table and looking down at Newt. 

"I don't know - is this supposed to be some sort of test?"

The fair one smiles, a brief baring of teeth that makes Newt almost nervous, and the dark one chuckles. "Aren't you sweet? No, nothing like that. Don't you worry about a thing."

The fair one whisks his wand in an unfamiliar motion, moving it down the length of Newt's body, and where the wand passes, Newt feels phantom fingers touching him. They are whispers of feeling, at first, and then they are firmer caresses - circles around his nipples, his navel, his balls. Newt thinks that his cock would be stirring if he hadn't only just come. It all feels indescribably good. He lets his head fall back and closes his eyes.

It feels even better to surrender to these feelings, but Newt is startled into opening his eyes when one of the men stands next to his face and traces his lips with a finger. "I-"

"Don't apologize," he says. He is holding a bottle with some kind of potion, a little crystal flask that gleams in the low light. "Your reactions are beautiful."

He traces Newt's jawbone and bends down to suck a little love bite on his collarbone. Newt can hardly see it at this angle but he can imagine the purple standing out on his fair skin. 

The man reaches down to fondle Newt's cock. "Sometimes we like to fuck people while they are still soft, and we fuck them until their cocks are hard again and then we leave them wanting, begging us for more. But you have a long night in front of you, I think, and none of us know yet just what you like. There is - we have a potion, if you want it. If you would like to come more than once tonight."

Newt hardly knows what to say to that, but the idea of coming again - with those phantom touches feathering their way over his body, tracing whirls and whorls onto his skin, teasing his cock, working his nipples into taut peaks - and these two men, looking down at him as though he is a feast to be devoured - he does not know what to say, but he nods, and he drinks the potion when the man unstoppers the vial and holds it to his lips. 

It is a sweet, herbal taste that lingers on his tongue and the potion takes effect almost immediately - Newt can feel himself growing hard as the phantom fingers tease him. He wants to arch his back and move into the touches, to ask for more, harder, faster, deeper. He wants, also, to see what these men have planned and so he lies still, waiting for them.

The two of them undress each other, their hands lingering. They move together like partners, like old and familiar lovers. With each item of clothing removed, one of them points his wand at Newt, and the phantom touches change - they are as cold as ice, as hot as molten wax, they are as soft as feathers, as sharp as daggers. Newt bites his lips and tries not to moan, but with every touch, he wants more.

He is not sure if he should be watching the two men undress - it seems almost private, the way that they touch one another - but he has a hard time looking away from their bodies. Even in this half-light, they are beautiful, with long lean lines and sharply defined muscles and sweet smooth-looking skin.

The dark one comes to stand next to the table, leaving the other - his lover, Newt is almost certain of it now - standing and looking after him. "We said we'd let you come as often as you like," he says, and his voice is low and rough and almost like a purr. "Would you like to come now?"

He asks the question just as he twists his wand, just as the phantom touches strike deep inside Newt, stretching his entrance and finding a sweet spot inside of him that Newt hadn't known existed. He wants to thrash and writhe but the bonds hold him steady.

The second wizard comes to stand to the other side of the table and he gestures with his wand, too, and the phantom touches transform from invisible fingers to invisible mouths that suck kisses into Newt's skin. They suck on his taut nipples and on the skin of his chest and in a trail all the way down to his cock - all the way there, but no further. They leave him waiting at the last second.

Newt waits to see what they will do next, but the two wizards are staring at him expectantly. Oh - they had asked him a question, hadn't they? "Yes," he says, hoping that it is the right answer.

"Good," they say together, and it is uncanny, that - they are perfectly in sync with each other. They move together, then, their wands flicking out in a pattern too quick to see. Newt closes his eyes just as the phantom touches hit him, caresses that run the length of his body and kisses that run down the length of his cock. It is bliss so extreme that it is almost painful, and Newt bites his lip trying not to scream as he comes.

"Oh, sweetheart," one of the men is saying sometime later when a little of the haze has cleared and Newt can open his eyes again. "You really should have asked us why we offered you the potion."

"You didn't think we were done with you yet, did you?" the other one says.

The two of them lean over the table and kiss, their bare skin pressing against Newt's - it is a long, full-bodied kiss, and they have practically climbed on top of him before it is over. Newt wonders dazedly if they are trying to devour each other, and if - if he had his hands free, if he could reach over and grasp their hard cocks, if the two of them could come just like this.

He has never done this before, he has never had such filthy thoughts before in his life, but he thinks that he would quite like it - to be beneath them as they came, to have their semen spattered over his bare skin and his blue coat that is still lying underneath him. He thinks that he would quite like the feel of it, of their come falling on his skin, of the two of them finding their release like that. They are beautiful together.

But before they come, they look down at him and one of them reaches down to touch Newt's cock - hard again already, thanks to their heated kiss and potent potion. Newt, this time, cannot restrain a moan and the man smirks at him.  

"Good," he says. "We want to hear what you like. We want to make you feel good, Newt."

"You're such a pretty little thing," the other says, tracing the line of Newt's jaw and then moving up to circle his lips. "Would you like to take us?"

Newt's mouth is dry and he swallows hard. Agreeing to everything has worked well so far for him this evening, and so he nods. He is not sure how they will take him, or what they will do to him, but he half-suspects that he would agree to anything that they ask of him - anything to keep the feeling of these magic phantom fingers, anything to have the feeling of the two men's fingers on his skin.

"Good," the man says. "We were hoping you'd say that."

He swings a leg over until he is straddling Newt's chest, and then he is using his fingers to coax Newt's mouth open, and then he is slipping the head of his cock into Newt's mouth. He is gentle, and careful not to go too deep, and just a distraction - because his partner is between Newt's legs, and inserting lubed fingers into Newt's entrance, and scissoring them, and teasing him, and finger-fucking Newt until he is ready to squirm and writhe and plead.

He would beg, but his mouth is full. He would writhe, but the ropes have him securely bound. So Newt lies there, while one of the men fucks his mouth and the other fucks his arse, his own cock is hard and dripping - he has come twice already but he wants to beg for more. He needs this, needs more of it, and his fingers clench and spasm and he starts to fight the bonds even though he knows that they will tighten.

"Hush," one of the men says, gentling him with a touch. He slides into Newt, and sets an easy rhythm, and fucks him hard. He and his partner are both in Newt, and the two of them were so beautiful together - Newt isn't sure if they use other wizards like this often, if they use each other like this, if they will fuck him like this until he comes. He wants to sob with it, with the need to come, but he thinks that he cannot come like this, with this gentle pace and the two of them holding back like this.

"He needs more," the one at Newt's mouth says, and the one fucking his arse slows for a minute.

"He needs what we give him, I think. Don't you remember when we-"

But as he speaks, one of the phantom fingers is tweaking Newt's nipples and he uses what little leverage he has to squirm between the two men, taking as much of their cocks as he can. He would beg if he could.

He thinks, from what he can hear, that the two men have shifted so that they are kissing again. Newt keeps his eyes screwed shut and his hands fisted, straining at the ropes that bind him. He needs this - they pick up the pace and fuck him harder, faster. The man using his arse finishes and groans and, after he slips out of Newt, bends down to suck a love bite on his neck. 

His partner slips out of Newt's mouth and then moves down the table and starts fucking Newt in the arse, moving slickly through the lube and through his partner's come. "He's a sweet little thing," he says between gasps, his breath coming almost as hard as Newt's is. 

The man who has already come is tormenting Newt - with bites and nips and touches, with his wand and with his fingers and with his lips. He is everywhere at once, it seems, and Newt is moaning now - loud, uninhibited moans. He knows that the other Aurors are probably watching through the mirror spell, he knows that he is making an exhibition of himself, he knows that they can hear him begging - that they will know what a cock-hungry slut he is - but he is too overwhelmed by this to care. 

He thinks that maybe these men will torment him for a little longer, slip a cock-ring on him and make him beg until they let him come - that they will use him again - that they will fuck him together, both of them sliding into his arse, both of them using him - but he is disappointed. Before too long, the second man is coming into his arse and bending down to give him another love bite - a mirror image to the one that the first man gave him, Newt thinks, but it is all a little too hazy to process.

They stand over him and share long, lazy kisses and stroke his cock almost as though it is an afterthought, touching Newt until he comes all over their fingers and his belly.

"Such a sweet thing," one of the men says, feeding Newt's come to the other. They stand over Newt and smirk at him, lapping up his come and teasing him until his cock is hard again. 

They leave him like that, hard and aching for him, and it is only when the two men are almost to the door - leaving their robes in a heap on the floor, leaving Newt bare and brazen on the table - that they turn back. 

"We might be back," one of the men says. 

"Yes, we might be back." The other man winks and then kisses his partner. "Or we might just use up the rest of the potion on each other."

"Happy guessing, Newt."


	3. Chapter 3

Newt was left hard and wanting - and wondering what would come next - for long enough that he has started to test the limits of the ropes binding him to the table. If he moves slowly and does not put too much pressure on his bonds, he can work up quite a bit of freedom of movement. If he is slow and careful, he does not trigger the ropes to clutch more firmly at him.

He wants, at this point, very desperately to work his way into turning onto his stomach so that he can rut against the table. He doesn't even mind that it will be a slow, inch by inch process - he is desperate to come. 

"You want it badly, don't you, sweetie?" 

Newt freezes - half on his side - and dares to look over his shoulder at the woman who has just entered the room. He has seen her before in the halls of the Woolworth building, striding through them in demure dark robes and heels that danced careful patterns on the hard floors. He has never seen her look like this - her hair unbound, spilling in a mass of curls that swayed as she walked, the arches of her bare feet on the floor, the lines of her body swathed in a gauzy sort of nothing that concealed nothing truly.

"I don't know that we should let you get away with that," she says, tapping the table with her wand. The ropes revert to their original short lengths and Newt bites back a howl as he is stretched back to his original position, all of his freedom lost. She flicks her wand again and the ropes tighten even further - even the small amount of movement that Newt could manage before is gone now.

"Please..."

His voice breaks on the dryness in his mouth. Newt swallows hard, and the lady strides to the top of the table and offers him her wand. He opens his mouth, obediently, and she makes a play out of it - stroking the wand in and out of his mouth in a parody of fucking. The wood is stiff and Newt thinks it might be cherry - something sweet and forgiving - because although he is at her mercy, completely helpless, all the woman does is murmur  _Aguamenti_ and offer him sweet, ice-fresh water. He gulps it down like manna and looks expectantly, waiting, when she withdraws her wand with a final tap - like a kiss - to his lips. 

"You are so pretty when you beg," she says, and she hikes up the soft gossamer fabric that she is wearing like a robe. She straddles Newt and slides down on his cock and it is only when he is tight inside her heat, his fingers clenched - the only movement he can make, with the ropes binding him so tightly - that she waves her wand again. 

Newt doesn't recognize the spell but he can feel the effects of it at once, a tight ribbon wrapping itself around the base of his cock, slithering to encage his balls. The lady smiles when he groans. 

"That's right," she says. "Such a pretty boy."

She rides him for a while in silence and it becomes something like a meditation - Newt cannot move, he cannot come - no matter how much he wants to, no matter how desperate he is for it. She rides him, and he endures. 

After a while, she is no longer satisfied with Newt and the noises that he is making. She starts pressing patterns onto his skin with the tip of her wand - each spell is a muttered, half-vocalized thing, and so Newt never knows what to expect. Sometimes her wand presses into his chest with a blaze of glory that is almost like an orgasm, an intense fire that burns and flares and dies. Sometimes her wand presses into the hollow at the base of his throat and it burns as cold as the coldest ice that Newt has ever known, and he wants to howl and he wants to thrust into her warmth and he wants to fuck her hard.

Sometimes she reaches behind herself and points her wand at Newt's entrance, still wet with the come of the two Aurors who just had him, and he feels the stretch and burn of being fucked. Sometimes she conjures a thick ridged dildo and spells it to fuck him at whatever pace she moves at - and sometimes she banishes it, and smirks at him when he begs. 

She is a sweet temptress, but no matter what Newt does, no matter what he says or how he begs, she refuses to let him come.

"I had my husband just before I came here for this," she tells him, tracing ice-cold patterns on his chest. He shudders and gasps whenever her wand touches his skin. He is past the point of begging, near the point of breaking. "I can do this for a long, long time before I come again."

"Please," Newt says, and his voice cracks again, and she feeds him fresh water again, this time casting  _Aguamenti_ mid-air and letting the drops fall like gentle rain into his mouth. 

"You'll have to do better than that, sweetie."

She rides him until she comes at last and when he groans at the feeling of her tight around him, she rides him until she comes again. Even at the end, she gives Newt no relief - she slides up his body and asks him to eat her, and then while he is lapping at his own come and making her moan, she uses her wand to direct the conjured dildo as it fucks him. 

Newt can move his hips a little, and he thrusts up into empty air, and he finds no relief. When he moans, his lips vibrating against the lady's clitoris, she spells the ribbon binding his cock even tighter. Newt could howl, but he stays obedient to her whispered instructions, and fucks her with his tongue, and waits desperately - "like a good boy," she says - to be allowed to come.

When she is pleased with him, she leaves him there like that - bound to the table, his face wet with her sweet juices, his cock stiff and bound, his fingers clenched into fists as he begs.

"Sorry, sweetie," she says, turning back from the door to look at him. She has freshened her makeup and straightened her hair and pulled down the gauzy, gauzy robes until she looks fresh and unbothered. "Maybe next time ... if you're good enough."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating! Hope you enjoy this new chapter!

The next man to come in tells Newt what he has suspect - "I've been watching you, sweetie," he says, and with a flick of a wand he has spelled his cherry-red Auror robes into a blindfold that swoops down onto Newt's eyes. "You're so sweet when you beg."

He makes Newt beg for it, too, all the while brushing close enough for Newt to feel the heat of his body, close enough for him to yearn for the silk of skin against skin.

"We've been watching, you know," he says. He nibbles on Newt's earlobes, his teeth just sharp enough to make Newt pay attention to his words. "The Fontaine twins might not make it down here - watching you beg so prettily, while they're engaged in their own little circle jerk - well, we'll see if they recover, won't we?"

Newt, not able to see, feels a bit like an animal trapped in a cage - a bit like an animal going into heat, the way that the last Auror left him, bound and leaking. He can't help it - he whimpers. 

"That's exactly it," his tormenter says, and Newt is no longer sure if there's just one of them - there are hands running up and down his body, fingers flicking his nipples, teasing his lips, touching him everywhere. He doesn't know how much more of this he can take. 

"Please," he wants to say, but it comes out muffled - the man is fitting a gag into his mouth, a peculiar gag that seems to force his mouth open - and the next thing he knows, the man is fucking his mouth through it. He can do nothing, strapped to the table as he is, but hold himself open for the man and submit to being used by him. Newt's fingers clench and unclench in spasms as the man fucks him. 

He thinks - but he is blind and gagged, and everything has turned into a blur - he thinks that someone else has come into the room, because someone is stroking his cock, and teasing him, and someone is teasing at his entrance, and slicking him again, and slipping into him, and fucking him hard. He can't see, and he can't imagine what he looks like - strapped to this table, with two men fucking him, using him as they please. 

He can't think of the other Aurors watching through the mirror-dark windows, can't wonder whether Tina is watching him - whether Graves is watching him - whether they know that he has been reduced to this, just Newt struggling against the restraints and cursing the ribbon that binds his cock and pleading, begging to be allowed to come. He doesn't know if he wants them to see him like this, or if it would make it sweeter - if it would be a hot curl of humiliation that would make this complete. He only knows that he wants more, and that his current tormentors are using his mouth and his arse, that they are fucking him sweetly but not allowing him to come. 

He only knows that they are using him like this, that they come in his mouth and in his arse - that they must have stood around him, after, stroking each other, because the next thing that he feels is hot splashes of come falling on his thighs and his stomach - that they leave him there, strapped to the table, used and hot and unsatisfied. He only knows that whatever this is, whoever is watching, he wants more.


End file.
